An intimate confession of internal affairs

I had never seen a photo of the inside of my bowel before.

It looked rosy and smooth, with a lovely, pristine sheen and clean as a whistle (whatever that means). No polyps. No Big C. No drama. No worries, mate! My stress level returned to normal (whatever normal means).

Ladies & gentlemen what more is there to say but:

The word is Languid.

I remember before one of the big fights a television interview with Joe Frazier.

A television crew must have went and knocked on the door of his house asking for an interview.

...Grow up to Fuck America!